


Strawberries & Cigarettes

by AkuDarklyn, Celestiar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Barowner Lance, Biker Gang AU, M/M, Milkshakes, Minor James Griffin/Keith (Voltron), Mutual Pining, Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Sven and Shiro as brothers, biker & college AU, biker Sven, biker shiro, past jeith, slowburn, tags will be updated as story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkuDarklyn/pseuds/AkuDarklyn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestiar/pseuds/Celestiar
Summary: Keith is 19 when he moves town to go to college. He is also 19 when - without thinking - he decides to meddle with a bike that isn't his.Slowly he stumbles into a world of biker gangs, spiced with sweet milkshakes and a certain, very goodlooking gang leader, his brother and the brother's weird lover.Balancing university sure isn't easy when you experience your first big crush, is it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello, hello, BITCH!
> 
> This might sound a bit familiar to some of you and I gotta tell you, you're right!  
> This biker AU is a product of Aku's and my wild imagination and we enjoy working on it a lot. Buuuuuut because I was super unsatisfied with how it currently was, I decided to re-write it again and change a few things up. This one is MUCH better and it seems a bit more ... realistic as the old edition?
> 
> Whatever, if you enjoy some hot bikers, a struggeling Keith and sweet milkshakes, enjoy!

"Wake up, sleepy head! Class is starting in 30 minutes and you don't want to be late again, will you?"

I tiredly rub my eyes and sigh. I look around and try to pinpoint where exactly I am.  
An all too familiar face shoves into my field of sight and I growl.

"You need a haircut, dude. Your fringe is all over the place."  
"So do you. Your hair is like some extraterrestrial form of living.", James replies smugly and offers me a cup of coffee. Strong, black and without a single gram of sugar. Just the way I like it.

"I'm so not ready for another of Iverson's lectures.", I mutter into the mug.  
"Who is anyway?" He takes a seat next to me and shoves the blanket and pillow aside.  
"Thanks for letting me crash on your couch again."  
"No biggie. I get something out of this as well, remember?"

Yeah, a pleasant ride to campus on my tiny as fuck moped, but a moped is a moped, isn't it?

I empty my coffee with a big gulp and get up to disappear into the bathroom.  
"Stealing my water again?", James shouts after me. I ignore him and shrug my shoulders. Where I crash, I shower. Simplest rule.

 

Ah, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Keith, I'm 19 and I moved to this little town called Nunville like three months ago. I'm an engineering student, freshman year.  
Nunville is cute but a little boring. But nevermind, I came here to study anyway. The university is kinda famous though and getting in is hard. I live on scholarship money thanks to my uncle Kolivan forcing me to apply. 'Don't you go waste your talent!', he always said, because when I was little I took his old car apart and after he caught me in the act he taught me how to reassemble it. He taught me many things about vehicles of all kinds and I guess I just went with it after all.

 

There's a knock on the door and I'm pretty sure it's James who's gonna complain again that he needs to take a piss before we leave. Well, bad for him, he's not gonna do that as long as I take my morning shower. His fault for waking me this late.  
When I come out 10 minutes later, hair still damp and a sloppily placed towel on my shoulder, he grids his teeth but says nothing.

"Bathroom's free.", I inform him and I get a devil's stare before he disappears with a very pained expression, because he apparently remembered his bladder was about to explode.

 

* * *

 

"Get'cha ass off my seat.", I bellow at James when we arrive at campus and he hushes away. His girl gang is already waiting for him and I'm not for the first time wondering if he's really hard pretending to be straight when he's clearly not. Not like I'm gonna spill his secret. I don't really care.

 

Class passes completely uneventful. Iverson's lesson is boring as always and I got a sharp glare when I entered the room with a spare 10 seconds before theoretical physics started, but he didn't say a thing. I keep my grades high and I deliver good practical work and that's all that matters. I don't really bother with people around me, I'm simply not interested. Study, eat, sleep, repeat. I don't even know why I still stick with James.  
I met him during my first week and he immediately pissed me off putting his bag where I had just put my feet. He's a people pleaser, stick to rules kinda guy. No feet on the table. Blah blah.  
We had a rocky start but I guess he isn't bad after all. Not my favourite person. But he exists.  
I might caused him a blue eye the other week when he asked me if my mommy raised me to be a brat, his dumb face with a smug expression. A sweet fist helped erase that.  
Maybe we showed up late to class after this and professors were asking what happened. Eating fist definetly wasn't good for both of our student files, so I told them he just got hit by a ball when crossing the basketball field and saved his dignity. (And myself from expulsion). Guess he was thankful for not ruining his reputation in front of everyone so he covered for me as well. Wouldn't have looked so cool to get his butt kicked by a nobody as the top student of the engineering branch.  
We got used to encounters like that and at some point we simply lacked energy.  
Iverson put us together so I could learn what discipline meant and have him as a study buddy. We both were fed up soon, so we went for pizza instead.  
From that one we stuck together occasionally. Not getting on each others nerves was better than fighting all the time. Also his place was huge and had a plasma TV of ginormous size and bad sci-fi movies looked especially terrible on it. I loved terrible sci-fi movies and so did James.  
We weren't even friends or anything. I don't suppose we are now. We're acquaintances. And that works for me.

 

* * *

 

Today, I finish early. It's a free period and with that luckily I'm done for today. So I find my moped and leave campus.  
Often times after university I stop by that place called _'The Yard'_ , a small milkshake bar in the southern district of Nunville. The owner is annoying, but their shakes are great, so I go there and study. They even serve lactose-free stuff, so how can I refuse?  
While I drive I think about how much money I already spent there.  
The answer is simple. _Too_ much. I usually stay there for hours, watch the bar owner flirt with his costumers and review classes. It's refreshing not to sit in the crowded library and sometimes I get free shakes. Actually I get free shakes all the time, because when I fall asleep over my books and charts whenever I wake up, there is a fresh new glass of Iced Chocolate Coffee right in front of me.  
I don't wanna know ow much I actually owe them.

 

I park my moped in the little parking lot opposite of the bar and check my jacket for my purse. Ugh, 4 dollars. Why is there always so much month left when your funds have already hit rock-bottom? I sigh in resignation, trying to prepare myself for only one round of Iced Chocolate Coffee instead of four. (Have I mentioned I spend too much money at this place?)

  
It's not as crowded as usual today, maybe because I'm a bit earlier. Their afternoon business blooms quite well from what I've experienced so far. Well, nice. So at least no one stole my favourite seat.  
As I cross the street I notice a bike right next to the front entrance. And for a minute I stand there and stare.  
Holy shit, it's beautiful.  
Is this-?  
It can't be!  
I just can't help myself. I walk closer and let my fingertips wander across smooth, cool black metal. _A Harley Davidson 1200 Custom._ And it looks almost brand new.  
Fuck, this thing costs a fortune.  
There's no shame in admiring a beauty like that, right? Right?! One day I'll earn enough money to get one myself. One day. When I am a successful well-known engineer. (Yeah, right, Kogane. Keep dreaming.)  
I side-eye my moped that is patiently waiting for me across the street and I can't help but pity myself now. Little old Molly looks pathetic compared to this bike.  
As I finally manage to take my eyes off of the machine and want to enter _The Yard,_ I notice a very familiar, very distinct smell. _Motor oil._

The Harley was lacking and oil was dripping down its frame and pooled together into a little puddle down on the ground.  
It is a mere reflex but I'm fumbling in my pocket for my tiny set of screwdrivers and a tissue, to wipe away the oil and check the machine with an attentive eye. It's not a big thing but it could be dangerous if not seen fast.  
Without a second thought I start working on it and for a moment I forget it's not _my_ bike right in front of me. I'm kneeling on the ground and I'm completely absorbed in my work when I hear a cough.  
“And who might _you_ be?”, a relatively high, snarly voice asks and I meet a pair of caramel brown eyes that stare me down into the ground.  
I am left speechless. Because- what the hell could I reply?! I start to stammer, to get up and beat the dust out of my pants, fumbling for an explanation. I have non. Not a decent one and none proper enough to explain why I'm meddling with a motorbike that isn't mine.  
“Boss!”, the girl shouts, about a head smaller than me, and turns around to gesture someone over.  
The giant shadow on the ground tells me it's not anyone I should be messing around with. The guy is taller than me. _Way_ taller. And he's probably very, very angry.  
'Take a deep breath, Kogane.', I tell myself and nervousness turns my palms damp.  
I am not even entirely back on my feet again when my eyes find a pair of black, probably expensive biker boots with strings and straps and the higher my eyes wander the more I start to sweat. _Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!_  
The man right in front of me is covered entirely in leather and long hair flows over his shoulders. Shiny black hair with a streak of white and a nasty scar right across his nose. He looks dangerous and every fibre in my nervous system is suddenly active and high on alert.  
His silver-grey eyes are piercing right through me.  
I'm probably very much doomed.  
Maybe I should move to a different country, change my name to Chuck and try to never set a foot into this town again. And hope he doesn't find me anywhere.  
“Your … oil tank ...”, I manage to produce but then go silent again. (Nice, Kogane. Very smooth!)  
He doesn't say a word and as I try to escape his strong gaze I notice his entire built. His body looks strong and muscular, his white shirt maybe is a bit too tight for my own good. I gulp. (And forget to breathe for about a minute.)  
He purses his lips and the sensual bob of his adam's apple as he swallows does no good for me.  
“Boss??”, the little girl chimes. “Boss, are you okay???”  
She pulls at the bottom end of his jacket and he snaps out of it. “Leave him be, Pidge.”, he commands her and even though she doesn't look happy at all she turns around and walks back to the bar.  
“Your … oil tank lacks, sir.”, I repeat and I notice how hoarse I sound. My mouth is dry but at least I still have enough energy to wipe my oil-stained hands off on my pants and hastily excuse myself before he finds the time to actually kill me.  
My milkshake is forgotten and I decide to hurry home. I had enough action today to focus and there's still adrenaline rushing through my veins when I finally collapse on my sofa.

  
The notification sound of my phone has me jumping.  
 _> > Space Balls and nachos? <<_, the message reads and I sigh.  
Yeah, maybe that's exactly what I need after this day. A stupid movie and food.  
 _> > Bring milkshakes <<_, I reply and about twenty minutes it buzzes at my front door.  
“Missed me?”, James stands there and winks with a lopsided grin.  
“Shut 'ya face 'n come in.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A movie, another movie and a sudden crush. But not the crush expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm finally back with the new chapter. I'm sorry I didn't provide this sooner, I always only write when I'm at home and lately stuff has been ... stressful. I don't know why I realized so late that I can access the fic online and write on it on the go since I usually save it on Google docs for Aku to read through it. I'm a loser, haha.
> 
> Also, chapter includes a notion of Jeith, I'm not sorry about that one. Don't u worry, it's gonna be Sheith in the end, I promise.  
> Plus we're introducing the other main shp in this story huehuehue.

“Man, you look beat. What happened?”, James asks as he slouches onto my tiny as fuck sofa. He drops a plastic bag of snacks on the coffee table and neatly places two super sized milkshakes right beside it.

“I wanted Iced Coffee.”, I remark and he smirks at me.

“For a greasy little nobody you sure have high expectations.”, he comments and I hit him with the nearest sofa pillow until he finally admits he forgot I was lactose-intolerant. Great. Two missed milkshake opportunities in one day. Is it alright to say that I hate my life?

“You owe me a new one.”

“I don't.”

“You _do._ ”

“Don't.”

“Do!!”

“You owe me a week's rent. It's been the third time you stayed at my place since last saturday.”

“Wrong.”, I point out and raise a brow. “I owe the Garrison. Or you wanna tell me you pay for your quarters, Mr. Honorary Student?”

“You can't tell me Garrison doesn't pay you enough scholarship money to not afford paying a friend what they deserve for hosting your after-drinking-escapade-escape.”

It ends up in a stupidly childish match of sticking out our tongues because neither of us has a valid argument left a few minutes later. Also _please_ , I know _exactly_ how much I can handle to drink. I've once woken up in hospital with alcohol intoxication after a wild night in my high school senior year. This will _never_ happen to me again. Also James and I aren't friends.

“So, will you tell me what happened?”, James asks after a while of silence and making himself comfortable between my sofa pillows

I sigh and open a bag of chips instead. We're not gonna have this conversation. It's none of his business.

“Secretive as always. Pity.”

“Shut up before I'll find the next pair of needles to make you shut your face forever.”

He looks mildly threatened. Maybe because he knows I like keeping sharp objects close to me.

* * *

 

We're 30 minutes into _Space Balls_ when I get up for taking a piss. I take my time in the bathroom and tell him not to pause, I already know this movie well enough to have memorized every line and every single joke. Sadly no one ever appreciates my sense of humor. Except for that dude who works at _The Yard_. But maybe that's just part of his job. Agreeing with his costumers and making them feel happy and understood so they sympathize and buy more drinks.

When I return I find Griffin fumbling with the TV remote, apparently he sat on it and now has a button imprint spread across his lower arm.

“How does Garrison feel about having a loser like you as headboy of the engineering branch?”, I snort as I sit down next to him again, pointing at his newest beauty treatment, and try to pluck the remote out of his hand.

“Take that back.”, he protests but, uh-uh. I pat his head and yeah, I gotta admit I like mocking him. Lovingly.  
He tries to pull my hair but I snort and we fight over the remote for a good five minutes like little kids fight over candy. We end up wrestling all across the sofa, my arm with the device faaaaaaaar away from anywhere he can reach and with my other arm I hold him in a headlock.

“Awwww, look at you. You should change your name to James Give-in instead. You can't even steal a tiny little remote from an orphan boy.” I snort and he looks angry and I snort more.

“Give that back!”, he tries to wiggle the remote out of my hand somehow and manages to loosen my grip on it so it hits the floor.

Suddenly there is noise again and from what I can hear it's not from the movie. Well, not the one we were watching …  
James looks at me, eyes big and lowkey in panic mode. “I- I swear, I didn't do anything.”   
I look at him and sigh when a distant moan fills the living room.

“What the-?”, he exclaims and turns around, eyes going big as they find the screen.

The screen that currently plays a very explicit scene of two men in a very tiny bed making very intense love to each other. Why do I already feel like this is going to be a very big deal for my visitor?

I crawl over a deeply red blushing James, grab the remote and turn it off before things start to escalate.

“You- watch that stuff?”Ah, here we go.

I shrug my shoulders and flip back to the DVD slot of my TV. I don't know why he acts surprised. Doesn't everyone watch something like that all the time?  
Alright, okay. Maybe not everyone has a monthly subscription, but first of all, I have standards and second, all the college students do and those who try to tell you they don't, are lying little bastards.

 

It's quiet while Spaceballs continues to play and our usual little commentary seems gone. I mean, I don't mind enjoying movies in silence, but where's the fun in it to watch it with someone then?

“Keith…?”, James breaks the silence after around 20 more minutes (as much as ‘movie noises only’ counts as silence). I side-eye him, but don't say a word.

I see him chew on his lower lip and I know for a fact that there are questions burning on his mind. He tries to focus on the movie again, but doing so is hard. He starts to fumble with the pillow next to him and I finally turn my head to face him.

“... Have.. You done this with a guy before?”, he asks hesitantly, unease written across his face.

“Haven't you had sex before?”, I ask him instead.

He opens his mouth, closes it just seconds after. “Yeah, but-.. It's different.”

“How far is that? Intercourse is intercourse. Don't they teach you that in school?” I shrug my shoulders and sink back into the sofa cussioning. I would very much love to return to watching thattrashy movie now.

“You and Alvarez- Are you-?”

“God, no! If you think he's my boyfriend or anything, you're way off. That was a one-time only. Maybe two times, doesn't mean anything. What makes you think something stupid like that?”

“Well, you're… Good looking and smart-”

“So it's natural I'd have a boyfriend?”

“You seemed to know each other pretty well, alright??”, he defends himself and raises his hands just the tiniest bit. It's obvious he doesn't want to argue with me.

“Just because two people fuck doesn't mean they're in a relationship.”, I end this discussion before he can spatter anymore nonsense.

 

* * *

 

  
  


We finish the movie in complete silence. The tension between us feels a little unpleasant, but I tell myself that he'll get over it. He would have learned eventually, I'm not even keeping it a big secret.  
Before we go to bed (meaning me going to bed and him crashing on the sofa), we down a bottle of water each. Getting up at night because you're thirsty sucks after all.  
What sucks most is that I have to get up anyway because I have to take a piss badly. Maybe that was too much water after all…. I should simply learn to bring a bottle to my bedroom.

My head is a mess, regarding my hair and the stuff I dreamed about. During my sleep my brain thought it'd be funny to remind me of the thing I wanted to forget, the incident that happened a few hours ago at  _The Yard._

Chewing on my lower lip I shuffle to the bathroom.

Sadly, that's the trigger to not let me sleep anymore. Getting up was just another stupid idea, so I now lay awake and whenever I close my eyes, that face of this beautiful stranger appears right in front of me. The sharp jawline, the long hair,... His magnificent silver eyes.. I don't need to fool myself. He was attractive. You'd have to be blind not to think so.

I drift to a slumber and he's getting closer and - No way, Keith Kogane! We're not doing this! Not even half asleep!!

My eyes flutter open and I groan in annoyance of my own brain. Teenage hormones are the worst. Clearly Griffin must have triggered this with accidentally playing my me-time movies. Yeah. That's it. That has to be it. No way I'd think about something like this all on my own. (... Who am I kidding?)

So I get up again, tiptoe to the kitchen and check the emergency shelf. That's my greatest weakness. I get the munchies whenever I feel stressed. And these past 24 hours stressed me big time.  
Equipped with three bars of chocolate I make my way back to my room when distant muttering distracts me for a second. James is turning and tossing on the sofa, muttering in his sleep and it requires no genious to notice he's having a bad dream. Well, at least that makes two of us.  
So, against common and most of all _my own_ belief, I try to wake him up. I put my midnight munch aside and gently shake him, knowing full well that he's gonna be a whiny baby about me interrupting his sleep.

"James.", I whisper while I grab his shoulder to shake him. "Griffin, wake up."

"Keith ... ", he mumbles, wraps his fingers around my hand. "Hmn, don't .. stop."

" _Wake up!_ ", I repeat myself, now my voice a lot sharper than before.

"... Here ...", he continues. "Touch me there...."

What- the fuck? Is he having-?!  
" _ **Wake up!"**_ I basically shout-whisper at him now and slap him with a pillow.

He groans and his eyes flutter open. _Finally.  
_"What ... happened?", he asks, his eyes still sleepdrunk and him not fully awake yet. Then they open and see me. And he blushes to the tip of his ears.

"You were having a bad dream.", I dryly explain.  
More like wet dream.

He still looks like he feels a litte out of place. "Ah ... yeah .. sorry.", Griffin stammers and fumbles with his blanket. ".. Did I wake you up?"

I shake my head. "I was awake anyway. Collect yourself. I'll get you some water."

 

When I return he sits on the sofa, crosslegged and looking a little ashamed of himself.

"Here.", I reach him the glass and even offer a bit of chocolate.

He mouthes a 'Thank you', but hesistates.

"Did ... I talk during sleep?", he finally asks after a few minutes of silence. He stares into the liquid inside his glass and chews on his lip.

"Yeah.", I tell him. He looks uncomfortable but purses his lips.

"I figured ..." Then: ".. Sorry to have caused you unease."

I shrug my shoulders and lean back. "Don't worry. Happens to the best of us." He looks like he doesn't believe me.  
"It's normal. Everyone has them. I'll go back to bed now. Wake me if you need anything."

 

  
With this a more or less eventful night ends.

  
  


* * *

 

The next morning feels just as normal as every other one they spent together until now. With the slightly different behavior of James. Usually our banter is easy and lighthearted but now I just feel like we're tiptoeing around each other.

When I step out of the shower in boxers only and a wet towel around my shoulders, James' eyes linger longer than usual, when our fingers brush at the breakfast table when I pass him freshly brewed coffee, he hesitates and a faint blush creeps across his face, when I turn to the closet to pick some shirt from the top shelf, James stares. Slowly, it's getting very annoying.  
I feel him shyly inhaling my scent when we hop on my moped to get to campus.Still, I don't say anything. Maybe James is just still confused. I'm sure this will fade given some time.

  
  


  
  


It doesn't fade.

In fact it faded so little that I try to escape from James as much as I can. Hoping that distance will solve this problem.

But distance doesn't solve it.  
  
  


"You're looking like a kicked puppy, beautiful. What happened?", the owner of the Yard leans over, one elbow on the counter. His soft pinkish lips are a slim line, looking a little sad.

It's a few hours too early for their big business hours, except for me no one is over.

"Life's complicated.", I explain, staring at a point somewhere in the room that's not quite distinct.

"Boy trouble?", Lance guesses and he gives me a compassionate smile. Damn him for having such a thin skin. Why does he always know when something is up?

My expression shifts and maybe that's enough of an answer to him.

"If you wanna share, I'm all ears.", he offers me, placing a glass of Iced Coffee milkshake next to my head that's resting on the cool surface of the counter. I feel a bit nauseous, my head is heavy with thoughts and I mainly just wish to sleep.

"How much do I even owe you?", I finally want to know now and Lance chuckles.

"Don't you worry. It's on the house."

"Like all the others?" He can't be serious. My debt must be up in hundreds by now.

"Dunno what you're talking about.", he winks and excuses himself for a second, disappearing to the staff area, only to come back with some freshly made cookies.

"Here, have some. Hunk's cookies are known to ease the mind. They're so delicious you'll forget to worry."

For a few minutes they do help. They're crunchy on the outside and soft and buttery on the inside. The cholate chips melt on my tongue and he sighs. _God, they are perfect._ How does Hunk even do that everytime?

The doorbell chimes and the owner's expression changes from worried to soft and gentle.

"Good morning, sugar.", he sings and greets a new customer, one who looks awfully familiar.

He's tall, with a sharp jawline, dark hair and the most beautiful silver eyes. They remind me of someone whom I just can't put my finger on right now. He looks so familiar, fuck who is he?

The stranger leans over, wraps an arm around Lance and lovingly kisses his temple. "Morning~", he mutters, a beautiful deep voice, yet an accent to it that doesn't sound like one of a native speaker.

"Trouble at the clinic this early?", Lance asks and presents him a fresh brew of coffee, but not without enjoying their intimacy just a second longer. It's awefully cute and I feel a lot out of place.

The beautiful stranger nods and Lance gently pets his hair. "You want some breakfast? The usual maybe? Hunk is already here and preparing for the charity event later."

The other one humms, leaning into his touch with eyes closed like there's nothing better in the world than this.

I can't help but notice how close these two are and to wonder if it's just a very Lance thing to be that nice to his customers. It's no secret he's very open-minded and doesn't mind personal space too much. He's a kind heart, sometimes a little annoying, but empathic and caring. He gets people to listen and talk to him, it's like they automatically open up and feel at ease around him.  
While I munch on my third cookie I watch them absendmindedly.

About five minutes later there's a plate on the counter with a small bowl of yogurt and something that looks like some strange hybrid of bread and cake that Lance calls _filmjölk_ loaf. Whatever that might be.  
I eye it curiously, wondering what it might taste like.

"Want some?", the bar owner asks me. I pout, caught off-guard, but then nod.

"What is that?", I want to know before I poke a fork into the soft dough.

"Scared I'm gonna poison you?"

"Maybe?"

The tall tanned guy laughs, shaking his head with a sheepish smile. "As if I'd poison my favourite regular."

I pout again. Am I really over that often?  
Come to think of it.  
_Yes_ , yes I am.  
No wonder all my money is gone mid-month.

"It's a swedish breakfast dish made with dairy and often served with lingonberries. You use soured milk, _filmjölk._ Kinda like buttermilk or kefir.", he explains.

Sounds. Odd. But okay?

  
  


Actually it doesn't taste half bad. New and strange. But not bad.  
I didn't even know they had something like that here.  
(That's because they don't have it on their menu. But sometimes I'm too stupid to get what custom orders are, let's be real here.)

"Soooooo about your problem."

Ugh. Can't he go and be busy with his handsome new customer guy?

"Small, brown hair, short and slick back, always surrounded by two girls?", Lance sing-sangs.

"How-?"

"You know, I have eyes and ears everywhere ~"

I groan and rolls my eyes.

"I thought you were friends?

"Not friends!"

"So what are you then?"

".. Acquaintances?"

"Doesn't look like that to me.", he humms and kisses the stranger a goodbye on his forehead. "Or is it normal to worry about acquaintances so much your pretty face is all in wrinkles?"

"He's behaving strange.", I mutter. Do they _really_ need to have this conversation? Because I'd rather _not_ explore this further.

"In what way~?"

"Man, I _don't fucking know._ Things happened and now he's just being weird, is that so hard to get?!"

"So, you're being weird about him now having a crush on you?" Just a wild guess Lance makes. But actually exactly whats up.

I purse my lips, but remain quiet.

"So it _does_ bother you. .. You like him?"

"Not like that." Can we please stop this conversation? No need to elaborate further, Mr. Milkshake Guy!

"Then tell him?", he just suggests.

"How?"

"Like a normal person would? Careful? Show some empathy?"

I huff. Yeaaaaaaah, careful. Empathic. _Definetly me._

"I mean, if you don't like him that way there's no harm for me to tell you someone else asked about you~. Tall, beautiful, long shiny hair. Nasty scar. Extremely handsome?"

That _does_ ring a bell.  
In fact it rings such a bell it makes my features slip into a grimace.

 _"What?"_ , I bellow, breathless. Shit, he wants to kill me, right? "Tell me you're lying!"

"Why should I? I've never seen Shiro speechless and trust me, I've known him for a while."  
Lance seemes to think it's quite funny.

Shiro. That's his name.  
The man I offended.  
The guy I dreamed of.  
I had a very explicit dream about.  
The guy whose eyes could burn me alive.  
The guy who-

"I'll ... leave, alright? I'll ... pay you next time I come over." I can never come over again. I have to leave town. Change my name to Chuck. Get a new hairstyle. Or best: a new body.  
I am so. Fucking. Screwed.

"If you want to meet him again, come back at 7 pm.", Lance shouts after me as I hastily leave _The Yard_.

I could _so_ not come back here!!

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milkshakes, mistakes and mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YESSSSS I'm back with a new chapter so soon! Summer holidays, sooooo I only have to focus on work and that leaves more time for writing ayyyy.  
> Time for a tiny bit backstory and I guess also trigger warning for minor character death?
> 
> It's a short one again but I kinda like it. Actually I didn't plan to include the mom in the original story but u know. Stuff happens!  
> Hope you like it and pls tell me if the shortness of the chapters bothers u. I can try to write longer ones but they'll take more time!!

I am back at 7 pm.

 

I don't even know  _ why _ I think it's a good idea to be here, but my body moved here on its own, I swear!

And now I sit at the table farthest away from the counter in the best hidden corner and I watch a certain man from a certain distance.

God, even his profile is nothing but a snack on legs, how can someone be so pleasing to the eye?

Hoping not to peak too much attention I currently hide behind a book. Yeah, right. I should be studying. But here is my favourite place to study so of course I'm here!... At least that's what I'm trying to tell myself. My uncle would probably hit me for that lie and for distracting myself so much.  
My favourite kind of distraction is currently undoing his leather jacket and exposing a well-muscled back in a way-too-tight shirt.  _ I take a deep, audible breath.  
_ And for a second Lance's eyes meet mine and his lips turn into a knowing, dirty grin.

"Everything alright, Lance?", I hear that beautiful man, whom I just learned is called Shiro, asking.

"Oh, nothing, nothing. You just have a cute stalker over there ~" 

He nods in my direction and I  _ swear I'm gonna kill him!!!  
_ As fast as possible I duck under the table and just hope he won't see me. For the first time in my miserable life I pray to God.

"There.. Is no one?" From what I can hear, Shiro sounds confused. 

"Oh?", Lance chuckles. "Must have been a ghost then."  He winks at Shiro and continues wiping some glasses.

"Anyway, have you seen Sven today? I wanted to talk to him about the field trip. It's still some time but I'd like to have everything organized before semester break starts."  
Semester break? Don't tell me Mr. Handsome is a teacher?! 

"He's stuck at the clinic. Doc decided to schedule an emergency operation, so he left early." Lance pouts in frustration. Who's that Sven guy they're talking about anyway?

"If he stops by, tell him to meet me and Sam as soon as possible."

"Aye, boss!", Lance salutes.  
Boss? Wait, does Shiro own the diner?  
I'm  _ confused! _

"How's Pumpkin?"

"The most beautiful orange creature my eyes have ever seen! She's so cute and adorable I wanna hug her all day and cuddle!"  
I know Lance is a weirdo, but wow, that man is fond of his veggies, isn't he?  
I watch him having heart eyes over his plant and since Shiro seems to be super absorbed into a conversation over the newly rescued plant, I decide it's safe to dive up to the surface again. I'll just hide for another few minutes, juuuust to make sure. 

 

What I don't hear are steps approaching until they come to a hold in front of my table. 

A shout-whispered  _ "Psst!!"  _ in a very familiar voice startles me. In fact it startles me so bad that I jump and hit my head on the table.

"OW, FUCK!!", I curse but then instantly slap my hand over my mouth. Shit, did Shiro hear me?!!!  _ Did I just embarrass myself again??  _

A freckled, tan face appears right in front of me now and smiles with the innocence of an angel. "Sorry to have startled you, beautiful! But I have something for you from that handsome man over there with the long hair and the scar. You know whom I'm talking about." He just sheepishly winks at me and with a clink empties his tray, putting a glass of milkshake on the floor right on front of my nose.  
_ Iced Chocolate Coffee. _

"You might wanna drink it before it melts~", he humms at me and I could  _ swear  _ he's stifling a laugh.

Then he gets up, slaps his thighs with an 'alright, delivery success' and ventures away.  
And I, I decide it's about time I get back to the table surface. What I don't expect are a pair of eyes watching me. Silver eyes. Piercing, silver eyes. Silver eyes of a beautiful man with a beautiful face and who just sponsored me my favourite milkshake. 

\--  _ HE JUST SPONSORED ME MY FAVOURITE MILKSHAKE!!!  _

Panic clutches my limbs and I immediately turn my head to meet his surprised gaze.

_ He's looking at me! _

Okay, Keith! Act normal!! You know what to do, act normal, say thanks-

_ Act normal?!! Brain.exe doesn't know how to act normal!!!   
_ _ Brain.exe just crashed, system is overheating, processor overloading- _

"Are you alright?", a gentle, deep voice asks me. Shiro looks at me from across the counter and I just wish to be swallowed by the floor and to never reappear again.

He looks worried, pursing his lips a little.

"I-I'm fine…", I somehow produce. How, I don't know.

"You hit your head pretty hard. Are you sure you’re okay?" 

Now that he says it, I feel a throbbing pain. Carefully I rub my scalp and flinch when I feel dull pain where my fingers touch. Shit man, this is gonna hurt a while.

"I'm Shiro.", he introduces himself and is suddenly right by my side, checking on my head just to make sure. His hands are gentle as he inspects my bump and I can't help but notice how huge they are. (They're perfect.) 

"Lance, can you bring a cool pack, please?", he shouts.

And I swear I can hear Lance snicker from afar.

What's so funny?? 

 

Minutes later I sit there, a pint with wobbly cool liquid pressed against my head and I stare at my glass.

"So, Iced Chocolate Coffee?", Shiro asks with a smile so loving plastered across his face that I swear I'm gonna die. "Your favourite?"

"Yea'.", I mutter. "Thanks for getting me one…."

Shiro looks surprised, blinks. "I'm sorry? I didn't-" He honestly doesn't seem to know what I'm talking about.

"But Lance said you-"  _ That little bastard! _

Ohhhhh I smell betrayal from across the room!! That smug little worm!!  
My milkshake is half melted and I swear if I was sitting closer to the counter he'd have it on his work uniform now. How dare he lies to me!  
Shiro, on the contrary, doesn't seem to know what's up. 

"So what are you studying for?", he tries to make casual conversation.

And this is how I explain to him every aspect of theoretical physics I've ever learned since the beginning of the semester with interjection of 'ohhhh's' and 'ahhhh's' and I ramble so much that I don't even realize half the stuff I tell is complete bullshit. I can't help it. He just makes me  _ nervous _ .

 

* * *

 

 

I'm home later than usual this evening. One missed call and twelve unread messages. 11 out of the 12 are James (they're probably fine to ignore for a bit longer) and one from home.

I start my laptop and it doesn't take long for a Skype call request to pop up.

_ "G'd evening, son!",  _ my uncle Kolivan's face appears on screen. His hair looks a bit tousled and his braid just a tad more messy than usual.  
_ "How's university going for my favourite son of all?",  _ he wants to know and I update him on everything happening on my curriculum right now.  
Of course I casually leave out the personal affairs that recently happened. He's basically something like my dad but he for sure doesn't need to know everything.

_ " Who're you talking to?" _ , I hear a voice from behind him.

A flare of dark, floppy hair and a rat tail appears in the background and a few seconds later a very familiar face shoves into the camera. A face I haven't seen in an eternity.

"Hey mom.", I can't help but smile now.

_ "If this isn't my beloved child. How are things in Nunville?" _

"Great. Good. I think. You're at the Blades? How come?"

_ "Just for a few days. Someone has to kick these guys' butts after all!" _ , she laughs. Yet, I find a new scar appearing on her beautiful face.

_ "I'll go back to Rome soon. My current place is a bit tougher than usual." _

My mom is a paramedic and works abroad. She's traveled the world countless of times and it's quite time consuming, but still she loves her job. When I was little she was often stationed at countries at war, helping out at their field hospitals and caring for the injured as much as she possibly could. That's actually how she met my dad. During work.

He was a firefighter who got hurt in a fire down in Texas. She was just a trainee back then but she looked out for him even when he was getting better. Eventually he asked her out, bought her dinner and they bonded over their mutual love for helping people in need. I was born a year after and I still remember when my dad used to teach me that we should always put the well-being of others over our own selfish needs. My dad was a good guy and I loved him dearly. I cried rivers when he died.  
After that, the guys of my mom's commune took me in. I don't know a lot about my grandparents or the rest of my descendants, but the guys there soon became my family. We were all Mamorans and they treated me like their own flesh and blood. Uncle Kolivan tutored me and uncle Antok made sure I learned some self-defence after some idiot guys at school picked on me for being too small for my age. Uncle Thace taught me how to cook.  
Later, my mom told me all of them were a group of retired soldiers who'd decided they'd put life above war and hurt. They still called themselves the Blades of Mamora, Blades because they were now fighting for a betterment of the world. I wasn't the only child they adopted without a second guess. The little boy I used to play with, Regris, he was an orphan himself.  
Mamora was the squad they all served in and the squad my mom once tended to on one of her many travels.  
She knew I'd be save there and be cared for in the best way possible. She was always away, working, making a dime for us to live and to pay for my tuition. I didn't see her a lot, came to hate her for a long, long time for just abandoning me, but the older I grew the more I understood that it was everything she could to. Being a single parent with a little kid, coping with the loss of her beloved husband. Working was her way to escape the cruel reality. She always blamed herself for not being there to rescue my father and I the night our little house caught fire. When smoke was thick and suffocating he grabbed me and dragged me downstairs, telling me to run and get help because he still needed to fetch mom's belongings from upstairs. Seconds later the little shack collapsed and buried him and when his brigade arrived at the scene he was only barely alive.  
He died in hospital a few hours later from smoke intoxication. My mom learned over the phone and left all her work to come and get me. She cried all through dad's funeral, rocking me in her arms like I was the only thing left on earth. She swore to herself to never let something like that happen again. To save every life she could to make up for losing my father. We didn't have anywhere to go. That house and each other were all we had. And now we had lost two things at once.  
Now that the world is a more peaceful place, my mom works abroad for hospitals and rescue, providing first aid. I rarely see her but I know it's what drives her and makes her happy. I now understand her and respect her. I'm proud of my mom and I love her.

_ "So how's Nunville? Are they nice to you? Any mean professors? Maybe a cute girl?" _

"Mooooom!" 

_ "Yeah, yeah. I know you're not twelve anymore and I'm several years too late to be worrying mom now.  
.... Sooo?" _

I sigh. For all the time she wasn't there she's now making up for it with being extra annoying. Why is she like this?

"University is fine.", I tell her and roll my eyes.

_ "But?" _

"A few things are making it difficult to enjoy at the moment." I don't realize how I start to chew my lip. Something that's very telling to my mom.

_ "Is this about a boy, Keith?"  _

"Maybe." I don't even realize how I puff my cheeks now. It's embarrassing. But it's kinda impossible to hide these things from my mom.

_ "Is he pretty?"  _

"Very."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter Shiro's view?  
> Next chapter Shiro's view!! :D
> 
> (Don't forget to leave kudos and a comment if you liked it so far! We really appreaciate all the love ;^;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little conversation can change a man's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop, I managed to write a little.  
> A premier today, first chapter in Shiros POV!  
> Hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave a comment if you like it!

Shiro sat at the counter, slurping on a huge strawberry milkshake. Damn, that guy was cute.

"He's adorable, isn't he?", Lance muses, the halo of an angel hovering above his head. "How easily he gets distracted. And all it takes is you talking to him." He snickers and shakes his head in amusement.

Shiro sits there, wallowing and sighing into his drink. He was cute indeed. All his rambling and all the talk about physics that didn't make any sense because Shiro was sure the guy was messing some things up there and he didn't have the heart to correct him. 

"How can someone be so pretty, Lance?", Shiro huffs.

"I don't know, do you check your mirror sometimes?", Lance suggests and Shiro waves him off.

"Don't let Sven hear about that."

"You practically look like identical twins. If I find you attractive it only means he is, too."

Finally he flips the 'Open' sign at the door around, displaying their closing hours instead now. 

"Soooo, you got a soft spot for Keith, huh?", he then grins at Shiro and the one addressed immediately knows that this smirks can't mean anything good. Then he wrinkles his forehead.

"Who's Keith?" 

"'Who's Keith?' ' _ Who is Keith????'  _ You've been staring at him for the past two hours and you didn't even ask for his name??" The tall, skinny boy stares at him flabbergasted.

Shiro sits there. Pondering for words. "I-

…… His name is  _ Keith??"  _

"Yes. Keith, like in Rolling Stones' Keith Richards." Lance rolls his eyes. 

"His last name is  _ Richards??"  _

"Shiro. That's  _ so _ not the point!! There is a cute guy. Who is totally head over heels for you. And you don't even seem to  _ mind?  _ How long has it been? The last one who didn't find you scary for definitely no reason I can immediately think of and that isn't totally obvious??"

"It's been in college. That guy was you.", Shiro reminds him.

Okay, fair. That one is true.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah.", the tanner one waves him off. "Again totally not the point, also I'm with your brother now."

"Who conveniently looks like my twin…", he reminds him. 

"Shush, big man!! I love Sven a lot and that has  _ nothing  _ to do with you two basically being clones.", he pouts.

"He's big and soft and beautiful, an amazing dancer and he sings like an angel. Excuse  _ you  _ for questioning my unconditional love for my lion, you lioness-less oh so big boss!"

They finally step out of the establishment and into the night. The sky above their head is clear, a dozen stars sparkling tonight.

"Speaking of the devil..", Shiro humms and nods in a certain direction. Lance's face immediately lightens up.

"What were you talking about?~" 

"Oh. Just about the most perfect man that ever stepped into my life whom I want to have a lot of four-legged soft, purring baby kids with, my angel, the light of my life, future Mr. McClain."

"Ugh, that guy sounds awful. Whom do I have to fight for stealing my lioness away?" Sven laughs and wraps an arm around Lance's slim waist. "Good evening, honey~", he then purrs and snuggles his nose into the soft brown hair, just to take a deep breath.

Lance can't help but chuckle a little. He cuddles closer, visibly enjoying the non-existant space between them. "Good evening, sugar. How was work?" 

Sven growls. Shaking his head just slightly. "Let's not talk about that. I have ER shift the whole week."

"Ewwwww. Don't they have special nurses for this?" 

"I  _ am  _ this special nurse. I was just lucky they were over-staffed when I started there so they stationed me at the disabled kids department."

".... That means I don't get to see you for an entire week?" Now he frowns.

"It's just a week, honey. Besides, we still see each other at home."

"Yeah exactly.  _ At home.  _ For  _ an hour.  _ It's a  _ week _ , Sven."

"You'll manage, love." Sven softly pats his hair and hugs him a little tighter. "I'll make up for the time lost, promised!"   
“.... Does that mean weekend trip to Falcon City?” Lance’s eyes start to glisten hopefully.   
Sven sighs, then laughs. “Yeah, weekend trip to Falcon City!”   
“YAAAAAAS!!” Lance whoops and throws his fist up in the air. “Line dance all day, all night. God, I love you, Sugar, you’re the best man  _ ever. _ ” He snuggles against Sven’s broad chest and you can see Shiro roll his eyes.   
To be honest, sometimes he gets jealous of these two. Them being around each other feels so natural and they seem to be inseparable. They rarely fight, they always seem to be happy and content. They live together in their very home, adopted a pet, go on cavity inducingly sweet dates and simply co-exist so peacefully with each other. In Shiro’s eyes these two are the perfect relationship. His brother Sven the calm, kind-hearted type of person and Lance the flirty, cheesy boyfriend who is super extroverted and very easy to like. Their relationship is flawless… 

“Are you okay, Shiro?”   
It’s Sven now who asks him and gives him a concerned look.   
“Oh, he’s probably just thinking about Billy Ray McMullet.”, Lance snorts. “A shame you missed him, I could have used some help cleaning up the drool puddle at their table!”

Shiro needs a minute, some long, deep breaths. "Sorry… My mind scrambled…. What were you saying?" 

He can feel Sven's warm, gentle hand on his shoulder. He knows what's up, he can tell from the expression on his face.

"What's up, little brother?", he asks the man with the long hair.

"I was… Thinking. Sorry. I'm still a bit in disbelief about today. It happened so sudden."

".... Not sudden enough if you ask me~", Lance humms with a mischievous look. "It's a pity it took me so long to set this up so you two finally talk!"

"The little one with the mullet?", Sven intervenes. He has seen him occasionally when he picked up Lance after closing hours. He was a steady customer, wasn't he? 

"Yep! Shiro can't keep his eyes off of him and he  _ needs  _ a man! It's been so long!" 

Shiro but purses his lips. Sighs. Yes, it's been long. And Keith is surely one of a kind. He's cute, beautiful and, as far as he can tell, very adorable, when he gets all flustered. But could he really be that guy? It's not the first time Lance tried to set him up with some random dude, though maybe his best friend Matthew wasn't so random, but definitely bi-curious when he was drunk, but it had never worked out.

"It's time to stop moping over Adam."

"I'm not  _ moping." _

"... It's been four years. That's a very long time. Look-" Sven says and gives him a sympathetic smile. "-you gotta let yourself have a chance to heal. To open your heart again for someone else. What happened can't be changed, I'm sure he has forgiven you by now. But you have to stop running after your past. Look forward, Shiro. And start giving yourself some credit.

We both know life has been hard on you. And you know we're always there to help. But you are the only one who can give yourself the first push. Stop living in the past. You're a man with a big heart and a lot to offer. We see that every day with all the work you do for the Lions and everything you did for me, Lance, Matt, Pidge, Sam and all the others. But now give someone else the chance to see for themself how amazing you are."

He can hear a crumbling noise. Feel Lance shoving something into his pocket.

"Keith's phone number. He has left several napkins with it at the  _ Yard _ already and I bet he has been trying to figure out how to give it to you. Text him. Alright?" Lance's lips melt into a warm smile. The Lance that was just goofing around and making fun of him not seven minutes ago, now so serious and caring. That guy, Shiro simply finds him fascinating.

He can feel the little ball of paper in his jacket. 

Yeah. Maybe he should give it a try.

Maybe it wasn't too late for a man like him after all.

Maybe he was ready again to let someone in.

* * *

  
  
What is love actually?, that's a question Shiro asks himself again after today.

Out in the dark, over him nothing but a perfect night. The stars shone bright, almost too bright for the cloudiness of his mind. He loved to come out here, lay down in the high grass and forget about the world for a moment.    
Only that he couldn’t forget the world today. Around him there was nothing but the song of the crickets, the beauty of the untouched nature in the night. And yet, his head, his thoughts were so loud.   
_ Love _ , they said.  _ Open your heart and let someone in.  _ But deep inside he knew it was the darkest place to go. Nobody would want that.  _ He _ wouldn’t want it for anybody. Deep inside he was ugly and broken. A broken music box with screeching sound and a ballerina without a second leg. Deformed, useless and forgotten. The accident took its toll. And every once in a while Shiro gets reminded that he’s not the same person he was when he was younger. Nobody could ever love someone broken like him.

Shiro himself, he has a lot to give. Friendship, affection, kindness. At least this remained.   
He loves his brother with all his heart, even though they don't have the same mother. They share the same flesh and blood, at least to some extent, they lived together and alas they are family now more than they’ve ever been.

He has loved Matt since forever, they've been best friends since the day they first met. That stupid, dorky nerd with his weird ideas and strange humor. The guy who got easily excited over some new tech junk and could probably fix an entire computer within less than an hour. 

He loves Katie like a little sister and is fond of protective of her. Matt’s little sister who accepted him as if it was nothing, as if he’d always been there and stuck around. She snuggled under his sheets when she was little and was afraid of an upcoming thunderstorm or cried her heart out over the death of her favourite plant.

He loves the Holts for being what he lost in this horrible accident when he was just a child. They're his family and they took him under their wings when he had no hope left. They let him stay till late, they offered their sofa long before they decided to set up an extra sofa in Matt’s room for him to sleep on. They called him their son like they have found their long lost child after an agonizing amount of time. 

He loves the Lions and he could never turn his back on them even if he had no other choice. He's their leader and they count on him. They’re more than just a gang of bikers, more than a pack of people who stick together and ride down the road with a roaring engine under their asses. They’re his home and somewhere he could always return to. They’re his safe place and his haven.

He thought he loved Adam…. But then, why was it so easy to leave him just to go to Nunville and be with whom was left of his family? When Sven reached out to him there was nothing left to even think about. From the day he found the letter in his mailbox he knew he would go.   
Adam tried to stop him, told him if he needed someone he was here. That Shiro should settle and forget about his past. They would get married in less than a month and then they’d be husbands, move away from their college grounds and enjoy their lifes together.    
Shiro moved away. Only that he didn’t take Adam with him.   
And now, years after all this happened, he regrets it. He feels terrible for the way he treated Adam, feels terrible that he left him nothing but a stupid goodbye note. He cut all contact, changed his number after ghosting him for months and tried never to think of him again. ‘   
The Adam that was a gentle and sensitive guy. He was always hard working and goal driven, he never hesitated to speak his mind, his cooking was just as terrible as his snoring at night and his touches always calmed Shiro’s nerves.

 

A look on his phone reminded him to head back home. It was a quarter past midnight and he had a huge vernissage coming up tomorrow where he absolutely needed to be present.   
Maybe he could ditch it anyway.   
But he shouldn’t, he knows that.    
So he falls into his bed and closes his eyes. He’s still dressed but he can’t find himself to care.   
A piece of crumbled paper falls out of his pocket.   
He blindly paws for it, picks it up, opens his eyes tiredly to look at it.  _ What’s the worst that can happen? _ , he thinks before his phone screen lights up again.   
He starts to type.

_ // Hey, this is Shiro. // _ , he types away.  _ // Sorry to be a bother that late. I just wanted to say that I enjoyed meeting you today. I wouldn’t mind repeating this. Have a good night now. I’ll see you around. //  _

 

**Author's Note:**

> We do have a comic version on Insta!  
> (Also find some of my crappy drawings there :'D)  
> [The Lion Gang AU](http://www.instagram.com/theliongangau)
> 
> Also check out my co-creator Aku's Tumblr !  
> [Aku's AU Tumblr](http://www.akudarklyn.tumblr.com)


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